


Satellite

by ladybubblegum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Multi, Werewolf!Stiles, post-s4 but no s5, scott pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7748725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybubblegum/pseuds/ladybubblegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack's lives are turned upside down when Stiles is bitten by a rogue alpha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satellite

It was all Scott’s fault.

It didn’t matter that logically, it was actually the fault of the rogue alpha who had chosen the forests of Beacon Hills as a prime spot to hunt for new betas. It didn’t matter that Stiles wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place, had promised them that he’d stay home and out of danger. It didn’t matter that the rest of the pack had been there too, so if it were at all Scott’s fault, then it was equally all of their fault.

It didn’t matter because it had been Scott who took his eyes off Stiles for two seconds.

Just long enough for him to get bitten.

\---

That night was one of the worst of Scott’s life. Not wanting to be away from him, Scott convinced his dad to let him take Stiles to the McCall house to heal up. The bite on his shoulder was already beginning to heal as Scott dragged him in through the front door and laid him out on the couch so Deaton could check him over.

Logically, Scott knew that Stiles wouldn’t be at all dangerous for at least a day or two, but it didn’t stop him from curling up next to him in the spare bedroom that used to belong to Isaac. Just to be sure, he told himself. Just to ensure that Stiles was okay, that he wasn’t going to get up in the middle of the night.

Sometime around 3 a.m., Malia joined them.

He looked up as she crept in through the bedroom window, and she froze, staring him down, as if she was waiting to see if he’d throw her out. But Scott just placed his head back down on the pillow and politely closed his eyes as she stripped out of her jeans. He felt her climb into the bed on Stiles’ other side, and there wasn’t really enough room for the three of them, but Scott couldn’t bring himself to tell her to leave.

She had just as much right to be with him as he did.

He woke up first the next morning, a peaceful still-sleeping Stiles between them. Malia’s hand had found its way to Scott’s arm, connecting the three of them--and Scott was alpha to neither of them, but in that moment he almost wished he were, just to give himself an excuse to call them his.

He let himself drift back off to sleep without waking them. All of them deserved to have whatever peace and quiet they could find, after all.

\---  
A few hours later, Scott and Malia found their way into the kitchen for breakfast/lunch. It was a school day, and they should have been in class three hours ago; the teachers would definitely note their collective absence. Scott didn’t really give much of a fuck, all told, not with Stiles’ steady heartbeat in his ears even from a floor away, and he was pretty sure Malia felt similarly.

They are in silence for a few minutes, and it was nice, having this quiet moment with her. A calm before the storm, of sorts. And a storm was definitely coming--Stiles did nothing in halves, and turning into a werewolf would be no different.

“We should order food,” he stated after a while, if only for something to say. “Stiles is gonna be starving, and we don’t have anything.”

Malia nodded. “We could get pizza,” she said hollowly. She looked down at her bowl and frowned. “He likes pizza.”

He reached over and took her hand. “He’ll be okay,” he said. For whose benefit, he wasn’t sure. “He’s got us. We’ll help him just like he helped us.”

“It isn’t fair,” she growled, looking back up at him. Glowing blue eyes stared him down. Her hand was shaking in his. “He didn’t want this. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was supposed to be the one with the choice.”

“I know,” he told her, quietly. God, did he know.

“Then how are you so calm about this?” she snapped at him. “You’re just sitting there, talking about food. Like everything is fine.”

“You think I know what I’m doing?” he asked her. “I have no idea what to do when he wakes up. What do I even say? ‘I’m sorry’ seems kind of inadequate.”

“You didn’t bite him,” Malia pointed out, frowning. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

Scott hesitated, everything in him threatening to spill out of him--and he was saved by the sudden spike in Stiles’ heartbeat from upstairs. Both he and Malia looked up to the ceiling, because of course the both of them were monitoring him. In a flash, they were up the stairs and in the bedroom, where Stiles was sitting up in the bed, eyes wide and heart still beating out an anxious rhythm.

“Scott?” he asked, voice hoarse. “What happened?”

Scott sat on the bed next to him, laying a soothing hand on his arm. “You came out to meet us in the woods to find the rogue alpha. Do you remember that?”

Stiles nodded. Malia gingerly sat on his other side and carded her fingers through his hair.

“I lost track of you during the fight,” Scott told him quietly. “I turned around and you were gone. So was the alpha. We found you pretty quickly, but--” he broke off, unable to continue.

“You were bitten,” Malia continued for him, and Scott felt a rush of warmth for her, for saving him from having to say the words.

Stiles looked shellshocked. “I was--” he looked back and forth between the two of them, perhaps judging whether they were joking. When no such indication was forthcoming, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Did it--” he cut himself off with a half-laugh. “Of course it took. Stupid question.”

“We’ll help you through it,” Scott promised softly. “You’re not alone.”

Stiles nodded absently, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on them, staring out into space. It was a look Scott recognized well; Stiles needed time to deal. Scott could work with that.

He stepped forward carefully, and when Stiles didn’t react, he climbed onto the bed beside his friend and shifted up so they were sitting next to each other. Without a word, Scott wrapped his arms around him and dropped his head down on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles head dropping down to rest on Scott’s was the only indication that the move was welcome.

Malia was standing awkward by the bed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. And it was at that moment that he realized how broken he and Stiles had become; this girl in front of him, this beautiful young woman who had become such an important part of Stiles’ life--Scott didn’t know anything about Stiles’ relationship with her. He remembered a time, a couple of years ago, after a few stolen sips of whiskey from the Sheriff’s liquor cabinet, when Stiles had confessed to him that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever really find someone who could love him despite all of his quirks and oddities. Back then, Scott had scoffed, because who in their right mind wouldn’t love Stiles? But lately, he’d been understanding what Stiles had meant--not agreeing, but understanding.

And he was so grateful to her. Not _just_ because of Stiles, of course, but well...Stiles had always been an important part of his life. No matter what, that stayed the same.

He waved his hand in her direction, quietly beckoning her. She hesitated, but then smiled softly, and climbed onto the bed on Stiles’ other side, mirroring Scott’s position. One of her hands landed on Scott’s, and he threaded their fingers together, squeezing tight.

Eventually, they’d be okay. They had each other.

\---

Stiles’ adjustment was...troublesome, to say the least.

He got out the first night, much like Scott. It took both Scott and Malia three hours to find him, deep in the woods. He didn’t put up much of a fight, as the next full moon was nearly two weeks away, but it was still a pain in the ass to track him down.

With Lydia’s lake house out of commission, Scott didn’t know what to do with him.

“Something tells me chaining him to a tree isn’t gonna work,” he admitted to Lydia, one day at school. They were sitting in the cafeteria, books laid out under the guise of studying, but neither of them were actually reading them--Scott was too distracted, and Lydia hadn’t needed to do hardcore studying since grade school. Scott made a mental note to ask her for her notes later.

“Well, we’ve got to figure something out,” Lydia replied, sighing. “I think his house has a basement with support beams, we can test them to see if they’d work out. It’s all guesswork until his first full moon, we have no idea how strong or in-control he’s going to be.”

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Scott told her, brows furrowing. “Including him. And if he gets out and hurts someone, it’ll kill him.”

“We can do our best to try to prevent that,” Lydia said, reaching over to place a comforting hand on his arm. “But try to remember that it’s mostly on him. He’s not going in blind. He knows what’s at stake and what he needs to do. It’s his responsibility to keep people safe. All you can do is try to help.”

“Yeah,” Scott whispered sadly, moving the food around on his tray with his fork for lack of anything better to do.

He hated feeling so powerless.

\---

Stiles’ first full moon came sooner than Scott would have liked.

“Hopefully, it’ll hold,” Stiles announced a little while before sunset, pushing on what they all hoped was the strongest support beam in the Stilinski family’s basement. They’d brought down Malia’s old chains, the cuffs on them replaced, and some things from Stiles’ room that they hoped would help calm him down. The pillow from his bed. One of Malia’s shirts. A frame containing a picture of his mother.

“If it doesn’t, we will,” Malia promised him gravely, arms crossed in agitation. “You’re not gonna hurt anyone. We won’t let you.”

Stiles smiled at her sadly and nodded, leaning over to kiss her. Scott wanted to avert his gaze respectfully, but found he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wanted to blame it on loneliness, on missing Kira as desperately as he did, but he knew that wasn’t it.

It wasn’t the time for that, though.

Suddenly, Stiles was hunched over and crying out in pain, and Scott and Malia rushed forward simultaneously to keep him upright.

“Guess that means it’s showtime,” Stiles joked weakly, knees buckling under him. Scott looked up at Malia, and she nodded at him. It was nearly time. They helped Stiles over to the support beam and set him gingerly down on the floor.

“How do you feel?” Scott asked him as he wrapped the thick chain around his best friend and fit the cuffs around his wrists. The straps they’d gotten were brand new and lined in fleece. Scott hoped they wouldn’t hurt him too badly.

“Like I wanna tear something apart. Make them tighter,” Stiles growled--literally growled, and when Scott looked up he saw fangs. He buckled the cuffs one notch tighter.

“We’ll be here with you the whole time,” Malia told him. They’d brought down blankets and pillows for themselves, intending to switch off watching Stiles. Scott had a feeling neither of them were sleeping that night, though.

“Just make sure I don’t get out,” Stiles slurred around his fangs.

The night didn’t get better from there. As the full moon rose, so did Stiles’ lack of control--the beam was holding steady, but only just. There was no talking him down. The personal affects they’d brought worked for a little bit, but for all the experience Stiles had had handling werewolves, being one was a completely different thing. He was too new, too anxious and agitated.

They let him wear himself out until exhaustion hit him. He passed out sometime around 4.

The morning found the three of them curled up again, like that first night, the cuffs around Stiles’ wrist making the position awkward. Scott woke slowly and stiffly, his joints screaming in protest.

He opened his eyes to find Stiles staring back at him.

“Did I hurt anyone?” he whispered. Malia was on Stiles’ other side, an arm slung across his waist, still fast asleep.

“No,” Scott told him. He could see some of the tension drain from Stiles’ body. “You didn’t even break the beam. You’re good.”

“I don’t remember it,” Stiles admitted.

“That’s normal,” Scott said, smiling. “I didn’t remember mine, either.”

Stiles sighed. “I need an anchor. Like now. I can’t keep doing this.”

“We’re gonna help you,” Scott promised. “But it might take time. You’ve got us, you’ve got the pack. You won’t be alone.”

Stiles didn’t respond. His eyes were wide and worried, and Scott could feel him start to shake beneath his fingers. Scott wrapped his fingers around Stiles’ wrist gently, squeezing. He wanted to make it better, but couldn’t think of a single way to do it.

Then Stiles leaned over and pressed their lips together.

Scott accepted the kiss, for a few moments, because how could he not? He pulled away, though, so many confused thoughts and feelings running through his head. The only thing he could think to say was, “...what?”

“Sorry, I--” Stiles began, then closed his eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“But Malia--”

“Wants that, too,” Stiles told him, and smiled. “Of course we both fell for you. We have excellent taste.”

Scott laughed breathily, feeling a blush rise on his cheeks.

“We were supposed to talk to you first,” came Malia’s sleepy voice on Stiles’ other side. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes groggily. “Good job jumping the gun.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said again, not actually sounding very sorry, then turned back to Scott. “We don’t have to talk about it now. I just--”

“I want to talk about it,” Scott interrupted him softly. “Just maybe, not here?” He stifled a yawn. “And maybe not before I get like, three days of sleep.”

“There is a bed upstairs that I know from experience can fit all of us,” Stiles told him slyly. Scott raised an eyebrow at him, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “For sleeping,” Stiles clarified.

“The other stuff can come later. After we all sit down and have the talk we were supposed to have with you,” Malia said. She reached over and took his hand, then leaned over and kissed him, soft and chaste. “Come upstairs with us?”

Scott smiled at her, squeezed her hand. “That sounds nice.”

As he and Malia helped Stiles up and out of the chains, and up the stairs toward his room, Scott realized: he’d loved these two people for so long. Maybe in different ways, and maybe none of them expected to end up like this, but they’d been gravitating toward each other for ages. He needed them and they needed him. None of them knew what was going to happen next, but Scott knew two things that wouldn’t change:

They would be okay. And they had each other.

The rest didn’t matter.


End file.
